


Enjoy the Show

by fadedhues



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Plot What Plot, Student!Stiles, TA!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedhues/pseuds/fadedhues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles just wants to get laid, but his boyfriend, the TA, isn't paying attention to him. Looks like he's going to need to get his attention some other way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enjoy the Show

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm posting a Sterek fic soon, where Derek is the TA and Stiles is a student, and I wanted a scene like this in it, but it the idea didn't mesh well, so I decided to write this separately. 
> 
> I have a drabble [tumblr](http://drabbledreams.tumblr.com/) and a regular [tumblr](http://fadedhues.tumblr.com/), if you care to know. Comments are MUCH appreciated!
> 
> Unbeta'd, so any mistakes are my b!

“Derek,” Stiles whines, pushing against his shoulder. “Come on, we haven’t seen each other in, like, a week.”

“We have class twice a week,” Derek says, removing the pen from its place against his lips and marking the page in his hands.

Stiles stands up and crosses his arms. “That doesn’t count and you know it, _Mr. Hale_ ,” he huffs.

“ _Mr. Hale_ is grading papers right now,” Derek growls.

Stiles plops down on the couch with a sigh, and Derek turns around. “Look, Stiles, I’m the TA. There’s nothing I can do about this, but I have to get these done _by tomorrow_.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He reaches into his backpack and gets his Chem textbook out, because this class is kicking his ass. He studies for an hour and then leaves Derek’s apartment, horny and pissed.

And he hadn’t even gotten a kiss goodbye.

Stiles is going to get Derek back for this, yes he will. He doesn’t know how he will, but it’ll happen. “Asshole,” he vents to himself as he passes Scott leaving their dorm room.

“Woah, dude, sorry,” Scott says, looking bewildered, leaving the door open for Stiles.

He calls over his shoulder, “Not you,” and firmly shuts the door behind him.

Five minutes later, he’s on his bed, jacking himself off, pretending that it’s Derek. He circles the tip of his dick with his thumb, like Derek does with a smirk on his face, and lets out a moan.

He thinks of the hottest thing Derek’s said to him (and there have been _lots_ of hot things said), and it might be from the first time the two had sex, Stiles writhing under Derek, and Derek had muttered, “God, look at you. Fuck,” and he had snapped his hips forward, and Stiles had gasped. Derek placed his thumb on Stiles’ lower lip and Stiles had lapped at it, sucking at him. “Your fucking pretty lips,” Derek had growled, “they get me every damn time I look at you in class. Biting at your pens, your nails, and you sit there with your legs spread wide, and you don’t have a damn clue. Fuck,” he had said, and Stiles moans when he comes.

As he’s getting the tissues to clean himself up, it hits him.

Oh man, Derek is in for a big surprise tomorrow.

\--

When he gets to class the next day, Derek is there before him—of course. “Stiles,” he greets him with a smile.

“Derek,” he coolly replies, and Derek’s grin falters, because while they don’t make it obvious to the class that they’re dating, they’re still _friendly_ in front of the others.

Stiles is making his way to his seat when Derek stops him, grabbing his elbow. “Hey, Stiles. Are you—” He lowers his voice. “Is this about last night?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “No, I’m fine. Just tired.”

Derek eyes him dubiously. “Uh, okay. Are we doing something tonight?” His voice is still low, though there are only three other people in the room at the moment, none of them close enough to overhear their conversation.

“We’ll see,” Stiles says with a shrug. He turns away and goes to his seat, grinning to himself. His seat is neat the front, but off to the side—right near where Derek sits, facing the students.

Stiles waits until five minutes into the class to start. First, he puts his pen to his lower lip, tapping gently. He watches Derek out of the corner of his eye, and once he is sure that Derek’s eyes are on him, he slides the cap in between his teeth gently, then closes his lips around it. It’s not too obvious, what he’s doing, but a quick glance at Derek confirms that he is _interested_ in the pen-lip action.

Stiles then smirks and removes the pen from his lips, focusing his attention back on the professor.

After twenty minutes, he slumps down in his seat and spreads his legs obscenely, taking his phone out discreetly and texting Derek, “Enjoying the show so far?” He looks at Derek, whose eyebrows have practically risen up to his hairline as he looks down at his phone.

Derek looks up and locks eyes with him, and he watches as Stiles brings his hand up and places his thumb on his lower lip. Stiles lets his tongue flick out to touch his thumb, and Derek’s eyes widen.

“Wish it was your dick that I was licking,” Stiles texts, and the look that Derek shoots him is so pained (yet turned on), that Stiles could laugh.

Stiles blows him a kiss and sits up straight, tucking his phone into his pocket, and doesn’t spare even a glance in Derek’s direction for the rest of the class.

At the end of the class, the professor starts talking to Derek, and Stiles passes by with a smirk. He’ll hear from Derek tonight.

And hear from him, he does. Twenty minutes later, he gets a text saying, “Come over. Now.” He walks to Derek’s apartment, which is only five minutes away, and when he knocks on the door, he is welcomed by Derek glowering at him.

“Hey, babe,” he croons. Derek steps aside, and Stiles waltzes in. “What’s up?” he chirps.

“Stiles,” Derek growls, “what the hell was that?”

“What was what?”

“In class.  You know what I’m talking about.”

Stiles purses his lips and pretends to think. “Hm… oh!” He tilts his head to the side. “You mean my little show?”

“Yes.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Stiles asks with a grin.

“Stiles.” Derek backs him into the door. “You could have gotten us in serious trouble.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Pipe down, no one noticed.” But there’s a little niggling feeling of guilt in the back of his head, now, worming its way forward.

Derek backs up suddenly. “Yeah, and we’re lucky that no one did! It’s not breaking rules, but it’s frowned upon, this… _this_.” He gestures between the two of them.

Stiles frowns. This isn’t going as he planned. “Derek, seriously, no one noticed.”

Derek remains silent, and Stiles sighs. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was just—pissed about last night, about you not paying attention to me—”

“Seriously?” Derek asks incredulously. “ _That’s_ what that was about?”

“Yes, and it was juvenile, and stupid, and I’m sorry,” and Stiles is scared, because Derek looks thunderously angry. “Hey, hey,” he moves forward and grabs onto Derek’s arms, “it won’t happen again. I’m sorry. Don’t—don’t break up with me or anything—”

Now Derek looks even angrier, _shit_. “I’m not going to _break up_ with you.” He rubs his forehead. “I’m just… worried. It can’t happen again.”

“It won’t. Promise.”

“Next time you’re mad, you’ll talk to me about it?” Derek asks slowly.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’m not a _child_. You’re only a few years older than me, stop that. Now,” he steps back, because now that they’ve established that they’re not breaking up, he needs to get _laid_. “Seriously, did you enjoy the show?”

Derek smiles a little, jaw working. “Maybe,” he admits.

“But I did something bad today,” Stiles says, pouting, and moves forward towards Derek again. He drops his voice to a whisper. “I was a bad boy.”

Derek’s jaw drops a little.

“Don’t you want to punish me, Mr. Hale?” Stiles turns around and wiggles his ass at Derek. He finds himself pressed to the wall, Derek’s chest to Stiles’ back, and Stiles can feel him on his ass, half-hard.

Derek’s always had a thing for Stiles calling him “Mr. Hale.”

“What’s the magic word?” Derek murmurs into his ear, rolling his hips against Stiles’ ass.

“ _Please_ , Sir,” he says, and Derek almost _whines_.

Yep, Stiles is about to have really great sex. _Finally_.


End file.
